


Lemon and Lime

by Tales



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-25
Updated: 2013-06-25
Packaged: 2017-12-16 03:28:44
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/857244
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tales/pseuds/Tales
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus overhears a conversation between two of his colleagues. and has to decide whether to act on what he has learned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lemon and Lime

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eoforyth (DawnEB)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/DawnEB/gifts).



Severus swerved into the shadows at the side of the staircase and pressed his shoulders back against the wall.

Minerva's chiding tones wafted down amidst the gentle staccato of two pairs of ladies boots on marble. "...He's making an effort."

"No, he _isn't,_ Minerva," Granger insisted with the vehemence and passion he had come to regard as her trademark. "Making an effort would be getting off his arse and coming here once in a blue moon _before_ I gave up on trailing back and forward to London. Making an effort would be doing something nice just because he was thinking about me, not because he's in the dog house and his stupid _bloody_ book says he should, and, above _all,_ making an effort would mean remembering I get hay fever, not sending an owl with a cheap bouquet that looks like it was the last one left on a garage forecourt before his owl dragged it three hundred miles."

"So, this is it?" the older witch asked _sotto voce_ as their steps faltered and stopped, just feet from Severus's sanctuary.

"It? No, _it_ came and went months ago." She shifted and turned her back to Minerva in a pretence of ambling toward the dungeons' entrance. "We passed _it_ when I stopped thinking he was a ridiculous, jealous twerp and began to think he might have a point. The truth is I _would_ rather spend the night wi— in the staff room than with him."

Minerva gave a snort that was half surprise and half something else he couldn't put a name to in the darkness. "You'll get no roses from Severus Snape."

"I don't want roses."

"I'm talking metaphorically. I mean he's never going to be one for grand gestures. That's if you can get him at all."

"I don't care about grand gestures. I want a wizard who holds the door when he sees me coming. I want someone who passes the butter as I'm putting the toast on my plate rather than waiting to be asked. I want the little things." 

"Severus Snape would as soon curse a witch as kiss her, especially one as young and pretty as you." She held up a hand as Hermione swirled her skirts, turning to face her. "No, Hermione, I'm just looking to save you some heartache. It's a wonder he's let you in as much as he has so far. He's a good man, and he deserves a good life, but he's also a stubborn man, a suspicious man, a cruel one, too, when he feels threatened or when he thinks he's been wronged, and he's got no illusions about how most people view him."

"Most people can go to hell," Granger spat. 

"Hermione, I agree." Minerva reverted to snapping like a schoolmarm before she turned gentle once more. "All I'm saying is be careful, my dear. If you give your heart to Severus Snape, he'll grind it underfoot."

"Then he'll have to grind it underfoot," the other witch responded, her voice wavering, "because it's too late for me to take it back."

It only took a second for the two silhouettes to merge into one as Minerva wrapped her arms around the younger woman and guided her back to the main staircase. "Hush, child. Back to your room with you. The dungeons can look after themselves for one night."

Severus held his breath until their footsteps receded into the distance. 

* * *

Severus didn't appear at breakfast the following morning. 

At lunchtime, his seat in the Great Hall remained stubbornly empty, and Hermione was well aware of the concerned glances that Minerva threw her way. 

Dinner progressed in a similar manner. 

Hermione couldn't bear to wait out the evening in the staff room. She grabbed the bundle of scrolls from the end table by her favourite armchair, avoiding the somehow accusatory emptiness of its neighbour, and forced herself not to scurry on her way back to her rooms. 

_What had she done wrong?_

* * *

Sunday dawned, though it was difficult to be sure through the haze of early morning mist that surrounded the castle. Hermione refused to stand on tiptoe to see over the heads of the pupils milling around the doors to the Great Hall, so she was forced to wait until she emerged onto the platform where the high table was situated to find out if Severus had returned. 

She gave a sigh and braced herself for disappointment as she approached the turn, but then she caught sight of his raven hair in the seat next to Minerva's.

As if alerted by her faltering steps, his gaze met hers before his slid rather peremptorily in the direction of the empty chair on his other side.

* * *

"Still not quite sure that I won't bite?" Severus drawled as he slid the butter dish from his left side to his right, ignoring Minerva's raised knife and gaping mouth. With a subtle wand movement beneath the table, he masked any further words from the hearing of all but his prey. 

"Bite? No." Hermione replied as she settled herself by his side. "Bark? All too frequently. Especially at breakfast."

Severus gave a grudging grunt of acknowledgement as he took his offering from an undetectably expanded pocket and set it down next to the butter, where she couldn't fail to see it.

The jar gave a satisfying pop as she twisted off the lid, almost sniffing it before she turned it in her hands to examine the label. "I haven't seen this stuff in years," she exclaimed delightedly, proceeding to carefully remove as much butter as she possibly could from her knife before plunging it into the pale green marmalade. "I would have expected you to go for the unadulterated lime," she chattered before biting the corner off her slice of toast and slowly chewing as if to savour the experience.

Severus lifted one eyebrow in the way he knew she found infuriating because she simply couldn't emulate it.

She swallowed. "House symbolism. You do take a great deal of pride in all things Slytherin."

Severus lifted the jar and proceeded to prepare a slice of toast of his own with deft efficient movements, smothering a smile as Hermione's eyes followed his hands' every move. "Perhaps I was looking for a different sort of symbolism in this instance." He pitched his voice in a husky whisper. "An example of how deliciously the green of the lime can accompany the gold of the lemon rind. Or perhaps I simply wanted to prove to you that Minerva is not infallible." As he bit a corner from his toast, he could feel her eyes on his lips.

"You know," she gasped.

It was Severus's turn to swallow. "Old habits. By the time I knew to whom Minerva was speaking, discretion dictated that I remain concealed. I would not have wanted to cause you any additional distress by acting rashly."

"And yesterday?"

"I—" He cleared his throat. "I wanted to be sure. You... dazzle me. I needed some distance... and some marmalade."

Hermione allowed herself a tiny nervous giggle. "I think we should continue this discussion in my quarters," she announced, pushing her chair back. She lifted the jar of Rose's lemon and lime marmalade, clutching it in her hand as she waited to see if he would follow.

Severus rose smoothly to his feet. "Lead the way. I may be unfamiliar with our path, but I will endeavour to tread softly."

Once they entered the staff-only corridor and were safely hidden from prying eyes Hermione slowed. The fingertips he had allowed to hover at the small of her back splayed outward, his hand pressing her closer as she turned towards him. "You know, there are some cliques within Muggle society where lemons... and, to a lesser extent, limes would be a rather suggestive gift."

"Really?" Severus asked, trying not to sound disingenuous.

"Mmmm. When we visit my parents, I'll show you on their computer."

Severus gulped and tried to cover the fit of coughing which ensued. "Merlin, woman," he finally gasped. "We haven't even kissed and you're taking me to meet your parents." Nevertheless, he felt warmth growing in his chest at this proof she intended him to be a part of every aspect of her life. 

The bothersome wench tilted her head back and grinned up at him. "Don't you think you should do something about that, then?" 

"Vixen," Severus accused sweetly, as he lowered his mouth to hers. He practically quivered with the tension between them, but schooled himself to avoid seeming overly aggressive. He brushed his lips softly over hers, catching her lower lip in the lightest possible grip between his teeth to draw it in and let it snap back. He was dimly aware of a crashing sound at their feet. Tiny hands grasped either side of his face and pulled his head back down and to the left. 

Any ideas about restraint vanished as he backed her up against the wooden panelling. He pressed one knee between her thighs, lifting it high until her toes no longer touched the ground. She slid forward until her crotch was at his hip, her full weight pressing down on her most sensitive parts as she writhed against him. Mouths and hands explored with exquisite fervour until her fingers on his belt buckle brought him back to his senses. His hand grabbed hers, pinning it in place as he eased himself free of their embrace. "Not here. And we should talk." He returned the top four buttons of her robes to their buttonholes, straightened her collar and tucked an errant curl behind her ear. 

It was only then that he realised just how many layers of clothing his little lioness had managed to claw her way through. "Bugger this," he muttered as he pulled her close and Apparated them both to the headmaster's tower apartments.

He lifted her into his arms like a bridegroom carrying his bride and tossed her into the middle of the bed. She smirked at the swathe of bare skin she had managed to uncover between his collarbones and his waist; shirt, waistcoat, frock coat and outer robes all askew. She watched him grab a potion bottle from the nightstand, its cloudy russet hue that of a well-known prophylactic for men. He flicked the cork free and swallowed it down with a grimace before he stalked toward the bed. One knee on the mattress, he began to crawl towards her, prowling ever closer until he was poised above her on all fours. "Now, witch, you'd better still respect me in the morning after you've had your evil way with me." His tone was teasing, but his eyes couldn't hide his concern. 

She propped herself up on her elbows, raising her mouth to his and kissing him deeply before she flipped them over and settled astride his hips. "I'm not about to change the habit of a lifetime."

His nod was practically undetectable, unless you knew him, knew his every understated expression, and had been waiting for that final assent. She leaned into him, sliding her hands beneath the layers of fabric, around his shoulder blades, and curled her fingertips over his collar bones as her lips tenderly met his. For minutes they simply lay entwined, knowing that soon, their passion would rise again and they would seek a more primal satisfaction together. For now, though, what mattered was to hold and be held, to kiss and be kissed, to love and to hope for love. 

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Oo, can I suggest a prompt of Lemon & Lime? Everything else your choice :) Author's Notes: Beta-ed by t_geyer. 
> 
> _For Eoforyth and anyone else who might be envious of those at Misticon._


End file.
